Child of Africa by T.M. Clark

Author:T.M. Clark [Clark, T.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises, Australia Pty Ltd
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

17

Across the Mighty Zambezi

The matriarch moved with purpose and patience, waiting for her herd to cross the river. The last time she had traversed it at this place, the water had been higher on her body. She had been younger then. Not as young as many of her herd, but young nonetheless. Now the water was below her belly. The river was low for this time of year because the rains had not arrived in earnest.

Hippos gathered together in the deeper pools to her right, grunting loudly. The dominant male bared his huge yellow teeth in a show of strength, but she ignored him. He was not about to move from the sanctuary of his deep river pool and attack the herd today; he was more worried about the rival male in the next pond as they competed for females and breeding grounds in the vanishing water. A lazy crocodile lay sunning itself on the opposite bank. Its teeth gleamed, but it made no move to approach the herd either.

She stopped and drank some of the refreshing water. She knew that the others were behind her, and they too would satisfy their thirst before crossing. She threw the water over her body and continued her journey. Finally, she lifted herself up the small ledge on the other side. The mud was packed hard from many feet treading the same path, but the step was high. The youngsters would need help here.

Once out of the water, she flicked the warm river sand over herself, and turned to help the mothers in the herd get the infants up the small ledge. She watched the crocodile as he remained on the bank, aware of their movements, but not a danger.

A fish eagle called. She looked up and saw it circling above her, its black body and white head so distinctive. It owned these skies and wasn’t afraid to tell the world about it. When she was younger, she had been so used to the serenity of their calls, taken both them and the vastness of water in the lake for granted as part of her life in the bushveld. But that was before she had travelled north. Before she had the responsibility of her herd.

She was closer to home now, the place of her birth, but she knew she wasn’t out of danger yet. Hunters were still around and she had to lead her herd up and over a huge escarpment before they would be safe.

One baby was in trouble; it was attempting to get up the step, but its legs were too small and it repeatedly slipped back into the water. The calls between it and its mother were frantic.

The crocodile slithered into the dirty water and disappeared.

The matriarch stepped down from the small shelf, her feet in the water. She turned her bulk around until she was behind the baby. Slowly she angled it between her tusks and lifted it, while the mother soothed it with her trunk.

The baby’s feet trod air before it was up, and then it was running beside its mother.

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